


Copacabana

by Future_Scxrs



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Denmark is a dancer, England’s too cocky, M/M, Norway is a bartender, Song Inspired, UsUk is more so implied, and he wears dresses, and it’s more like UkUs, because he pretends to be a girl???, but nothing to change the rating for tbh, oh and guns, old af, there’s attempted rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 21:10:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16794793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Future_Scxrs/pseuds/Future_Scxrs
Summary: At the Copacabana, don’t fall in love.





	Copacabana

**Author's Note:**

> This is like really old? I wrote it in like September 2017- but I’m actually still kinda proud of it so I decided to post it. It’s based off the song Copacabana by Barry Manilow and literally follows the same plot as the song. I’m sorry for any grammar mistakes- I’m fairly sure there isn’t many but there might still be.

A smile shone down to the Norwegian stood before him, loose tie hung round his neck and top button undone on his shirt, but he looked absolutely stunning in the Dane's eyes. Blond hair swooping sideways, only held back by an upside down pin of a cross, violet eyes shimmering in the light of the mood outside and a small scowl on his face.

It was already winter at the time, which meant nighttime drew in quicker and it was far too cold outside to stay out another second, especially with the short outfit Mathias had to wear. But neither of them really cared.

"No," Mathias mumbled, fixing Lukas' tie and buttoning every button that was undone, giggling slightly at how cute his lover looked when he was in a shirt and tie. Only, Mathias' wasn't the only one fixing the other's uniform. Lukas had his hands adjusting the Dane's bright yellow feather head-dress and pulling down the skirt on his lover's dress, clearly not too pleased with it being so short. The taller's hands grabbing his boyfriend in a swift movement.

"Lukas, sweetie, the dress is meant to be that short!" He grinned, clearly not affected by the length of the clothing.

"I know but," The shorter began, "Why do you still work here?"

"It's fun! Plus, I get to work with you, do I not?" Lukas sighed, he didn't want Mathias to waste his years in a tight dress, but apparently that was what he wanted.

The beaming Dane took the other's hand and the two made their way inside the glass doors. Music blasted and there was already colleagues dancing. The lights shone a rainbow of colours and drinks were not being served, yet the place was lively to no extent. Shouts for attention of different dancers were heard all the way across the floor, seemingly some people were already drunk before entering the building.

The two shared a look before scurrying away to their area of work: Lukas behind the bar and Mathias dancing with the others. Unsurprisingly, Mathias was the only male dancer, but he didn't care, even if he was required to cross-dress, wear a push-up bra and have to apply a fuck-ton of make-up. No one cared, except the odd few, but they never said anything. It was fun for Mathias, dancing the merengue and cha-cha, all while putting on a female persona. The Danish man had always wanted to be a dancer, a star, and this may not have been what he had in mind, but it was something.

As the night continued, Lukas served more and more people, watching them get drunk and stumble across the floor. For the most part, it was amusing. However, not every drunk is like that. He certainly wasn't.

Blond hair scruffy since he walked in, suit and tie looking a little on the tight side, green eyes like emeralds and eyebrows that went on for centuries; there was something off about this man. While Lukas stared at him, his gaze never left Mathias' dancing figure, which the Norwegian had to give a scowl at. No one else usually gave Mathias that much attention, so why did he? Was he unaware that Mathias was a man? He gave a whistle and Lukas could only watch as he grabbed hold of the Dane's waist and held him close, grinding against his body shamelessly. Unfortunately, this action wasn't against the rules, so Lukas had to pretend he didn't care, which was obviously not the case.

The man had seen the others glares of death, but he just ignored it. He wondered how far he could push this before getting in trouble. A smirk formed on his face and with one swift movement, his hand purposely brushed across the other's penis.

Bang! The whole room froze. Everyone focused on the fumed bartender, face bright red and eyes on the two. His glare deepened at the second, eyes like flaming knives cutting. Once he realised the strange man's hand hadn't yet moved, he finally spoke.

"That's against the rules, sir." He snarled, clearly trying to keep his emotions hidden. The man's smirk only grew, he looked around the room. Everyone seemed shocked, all except for himself, the raging bartender and his dance partner, who looked nothing less than uncomfortable. He knew how to play this game, he had done it many times before.

"And I believe giving paying customers a death glare is also typically shunned upon, no?" He added, finally moving his hand away from the other's private parts. Instantly, Mathias' expression changed to one of relief, but also terror as he looked towards his boyfriend. Lukas was even warmer now.

"Listen, you broke the rules, so, may I ask you to leave?"

"I don't think that's fair, I was only playing." His voice seemed clearer now, a strong English accent hitting every word. He was sober. That much was now glass.

In fury, Lukas was now face to face with the Brit. His desperation to hide his own emotions was painful to see.

"Arthur, maybe we should leave..." Trailed an American, grabbing Arthur's wrist quite lightly. The man too was blond, only with blue eyes hidden behind small glasses. He seemed to also be sober, panic rising in his facial expression. The Brit only shook away from his grasp. Suddenly, he punched Lukas' jaw. The Norwegian stumbled backwards, clutching where the fist had made contact with before throwing a punch back.

Not soon after, a whole fight had started between the Brit and the Norwegian. Everyone could only stare, nothing between the two was clear to see, everything was a blur to everyone. Yet everyone could make out the basics of the fight. Only to be taken by surprise when a gunshot was heard. Mutters began around the crowd, soon an argument of who-shot-who began. A small laugh came through the crowd and everything cleared up.

In horror and heartbreak, Mathias dropped to his knees at the sight. There, before his eyes, lay Lukas' lifeless body, a small blood stain on his heart and red marks on his face. All Mathias could do at that moment was cry. Cry warm tears. His love was dead. Mascara dripping like rain during a thunderstorm, he placed his forehead against Lukas'. A single tear landed on the Norwegians cold cheek.

Memories flooded as Mathias, now 53 years old, stared at the dress he wore in his youth. The dress he wore when the fight broke out. The dress he wore when he lost his love. Never had he moved on. The slaps, the gunshot, the blood. All of it came back within one glance at one outfit. Today was the 30th anniversary of Lukas' death, and time never healed the wound.

Slipping on his old dress, Mathias couldn't help but cry. He was finally going back. Mathias never returned to the Copa after that one fateful day, but he knew today he had to.

There it was, where it all happened. It didn't look the same, but everything felt so familiar, too familiar. Taking a deep breath, he entered. There was nothing, no dancers, no show, nothing. Only blaring music and drunk youths. What once was the Copacabana was now a disco. He couldn't take any of it, and thus exited.

Before stepping into the car, he felt someone grab his wrist. It was a firm grip, a familiar grip. Mathias turned his head to see the Brit and the American from all those years ago, regret and an unspoken apology in the Englishman's eyes.

"Come." He chocked, Mathias had no choice but to trust him.

Walking past the side of the building, he saw it. Lukas' picture surrounded by flowers of all different kinds. Tears filled up in his eyes as he sat by the picture. He looked back towards the pair, holding hands and walking away. The he looked down to the floor. The two had left paper and a pen so that Mathias could write a note. All the Dane could write was a simple sentence.

"At the Copacabana, don't fall in love."


End file.
